His hand had caught in a crevice in the rock, and though his wrist was bleeding and the rough edges of the stone seemed to be cutting him to the bone, still he was hanging in comparative safety. “Bad enough; but it might have been worse,” he muttered philosophically. Even if he could not get up to the ledge, at least he had not yet dived to certain death on the bowlders and ridges that floored the cañon. “Hold on, Chick!” shouted Nick Carter, at the top of his voice. “We are coming!” Chick did not hear what his chief had said, but he knew that he must have been seen by his friends below. The only question was whether he could bear the pain and hang on where he was till they got to him. For three minutes, which seemed to Chick like three hours, he hung there, with the edge of the rock digging deeper into his flesh, and his heart skipping beats oftener and oftener as his strength seemed to be leaving him. “I’ll lose my senses soon,” he thought. “I can feel myself going. Well, the sooner the better!” “Keep still, sahib!” It was the deep voice of Jai Singh, and it seemed to be behind, as well as below, him. The sound gave Chick new courage. “Hello, Jai Singh!” he managed to reply. “I come up soon. We both get out!” went on Jai Singh. “Only, don’t let go. That would end it. Wait till somebody comes.” So Jai Singh could not help him! Chick had hoped at first that the powerful Hindu was in a situation to lend him a hand. As a matter of fact, Jai Singh had had a narrower escape than Chick. He had grasped the root of a shrub growing from a crack in the face of the rock, and thus had saved himself from going to the bottom. If the shrub had not happened to be of a tough species, the root would have broken off under the tremendous strain put upon it by the weight and thrust of the falling Hindu. But Jai Singh did not fear. With the fatalistic calmness of his race, he retained his grip, and, though he felt the root giving way a little under his weight, decided that it would hold him--unless the fates had decided that his time to die had come. In either case, there was nothing he could do except to wait and see. Suddenly two arrows came whizzing from above. One struck close to Jai Singh, the other narrowly missed Chick. Instantly there was the response of three shots from below, echoed by shouts from somewhere around out of sight. “What is happening?” muttered Chick. “Are they fighting over me, and I not able to make a move for myself? If I could only get up to that ledge!” Jai Singh said nothing. He knew perfectly well that he was an open target for the men who were sending their arrows from some safe cover above him. But, since he could not help himself, why should he give way to futile lamentations? There were no more arrows. Instead, a chorus of shrieks and oaths in a strange tongue burst forth. Then Chick saw a white man tearing down a narrow path which wound around the face of the rock above him.